A/N: Hey, there, my awesome readers! I just want to thank you all for the amazing reviews I've been getting this past week! They keep me motivated so much, and the reviews inspire me to write more and more! I love you all! Have a nice day, kick back, relax, and enjoy this chapter narrated by none other than your wonderful Seaweed Brain!

-Sarah the Dorktastic

PJO Quote of the Day: "I need to use the dam restroom." "And I want to get some dam fries." Zoe: "I do not understand..." -The Titan's Curse

Disclaimer: I do NOT own PJO or the Hunger Games! All credits and rights go to Rick Riordan and Suzanne Collins, my two role models!

Percy~ I Get the Privilege to Blow Up Stuff

The little girl's scream was followed by another, high-pitched one shrieking, "Rue! Where are you?"

Annabeth and I looked at each other and we simultaneously got up, grabbing our supplies and sprinting in the direction of the screams as we drew our weapons. I had managed to grab a short sword that had been in my range before I ran off into the woods-I really hoped that I wouldn't need to use it, though.

Annabeth and I crashed through the underbrush, branches scraping our arms and faces. We followed the horrible screaming and finally reached another clearing, this one surrounded by bushes and shrubs. And in the middle of it was a little girl, entangled in a net made out of woven strands of tough rope. She was the twelve-year-old tribute from District 11... who had a bloody spear impaled in her small stomach.

A wave roared in my ears, and I looked up to see the boy from District 1, Marvel, looming over the girl. His hands were empty of the spear that he had just thrown.
How did he... could he just kill her like she was some kind of disgusting animal? It wasn't right. This whole thing wasn't right.

I hefted my sword-but then I stopped. I couldn't kill a mortal. That would be breaking the number one demigod rule of all time, and I couldn't do that to Chiron. Well, if I wasn't allowed to finish him off, I'd probably just knock him out instead.

Annabeth and I lunged for Marvel at the same time, aiming the blunt of our weapons at him. The boy, weaponless, tried to shield himself and run away, lifting up his pack over his shoulder to protect his head. I was about to chase after him (which probably wasn't the smartest idea seeing as he could easily lead us into an ambush by the Careers) when, out of nowhere, a stone the size of my fist flew straight Marvel's temple from the side and struck it, hard. The District 1 boy gasped in surprise and stumbled, and the twelve-year-old girl tribute from District Twelve, emerged from the bushes, a sling-shot in hand. Primrose Everdeen.

She gave Marvel a temporary second of distraction as Annabeth and I finally reached him, tackling him to the ground. He groaned, but I quickly knocked him out by slamming my hilt down on his forehead. A bruise was already forming, though at least he was still alive (even though he deserved a lot worse).

The tiny, frail voice of Prim brought me out of my ravings. Her hands trembling, she dropped her sling-shot and asked, shaking, "Did you... did you two kill Rue? Or was it him, that District One boy?"

It took me a second to figure out who she was talking about, but Annabeth had already gotten up and put a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. "It wasn't us, Prim-this boy here killed Rue."

"Good," the girl said fragilely, as if she would break any second. "At least I know I've got the right person."

Annabeth frowned sadly, stroking Prim's arms soothingly. "We're so sorry, Prim. We'll keep you safe, though, I promise."

Prim began to cry silently. "Why are you doing this?" she asked between hiccuping sobs, "Why are you helping me? Tributes are supposed to kill each other."

I stood up, too, brushing the dirt off of my pants. "It's what your sister would have wanted us to do," I told her. "I, uh... knew her a long time ago. Back in District Twelve. Yeah. Katniss said she loved you a lot."

Prim's big blue eyes widened like saucers. "You're from Twelve? How come I've never seen you?"

"My family left when I was young to move to District 4. They wanted a better life for us," I replied, lying pretty efficiently for a guy who's been out of practice in a while. I blame the Romans-you can't get away with anything at Camp Jupiter. The Stoll brothers and most of the Hermes kids would've hated it.

Prim nodded and pulled away from Annabeth's hand, slowly walking back to Rue's body. "Thank you," she said quietly, "I need to take care of something, though." Prim knelt down, picking a bouquet of colorful flowers from a nearby patch. Annabeth looked at me meaningfully, like Seaweed Brain, you can take a hint, can't you?, and we did the same, choosing from a variety of vibrant forest plants. We carried them over to Rue silently, but we would have to work fast before the hovercraft came any minute. I cut away at the net with my sword and freed the spear from Rue's small body as Annabeth and Prim laid flowers all around her. They covered the ugly wound, made a soft little bed out of yellow daisies, and braided Rue's dark brown hair with the flowers, too.

Let's shame the Capitol for what they've done, I thought triumphantly as the hovercraft appeared in the sky, lowering its long claw. Let them see that they've murdered an innocent, twelve-year-old girl. Let them see that they're responsible for her death.

The cameras would have to show it. There was no other way out.

"It's like she's sleeping," Prim whispered, as if she didn't want to wake Rue up. As some sort of goodbye, the girl pressed her pinky to her thumb in a three-fingered gesture, holding it out of Rue. Annabeth and I wordlessly did the same, and I could've sworn I saw a tear trickle down Annabeth's cheek. I couldn't blame her, though-this was just a cruel, heartless murder.

As the hovercraft disappeared, the forest returned back to normal. The mockingjays started to sing again, and the animals came to life. Annabeth and I turned to Prim, who looked devastated. Annabeth wrapped up the girl in a hug and said calmly, "Prim, sweetie, it's okay. You're safe with us now, I swear. Why don't we all have something to eat and then we'll exchange stories, huh?"

-.-.-.-.

We had a pretty decent meal for a dinner in the Hunger Games. I took Marvel's pack, jacket, and supplies, dragging him into a cave far away from our campsite so he wouldn't be able to trace our steps. Prim, Annabeth and I gathered some of Rue's edible roots, nuts, and berries, while Annabeth managed to salvage some cheese and dried fruit from Marvel, too. I, being the manliest one (kidding), went fishing in a nearby river that Prim had shown me and caught a few struggling catfish before I even realized what I was doing.

I'm sorry, I thought to the fish mentally as I let it swim back into the river, I wasn't thinking. Tell your river god that the son of Poseidon says 'hi'. Yes, I speak catfish, too-it was just one of my many odd talents.

It didn't even reply as it stared at me blankly and swam away, and that's when I remembered that Greek legacy had been lost in this dimension. The catfish probably hadn't even heard of who Poseidon was, and it probably didn't belong to a river god, either.

I sighed and trudged back up to our small campsite, where Prim and Annabeth had already started up a fire and were cooking two groosling, a type of wild turkey. Annabeth had found them in the forest and taken them down, and Prim had confirmed that they were edible-she recognized the animal from another Hunger Games. I felt utterly useless. For some reason, the theme from the Biggest Loser show kept replaying in my head: What have you done today to make you feel proooooud?

My answer? Nothing.

Well, Seaweed Brain, you saved your girlfriend from certain death, the more rational voice in my head said (it kind of sounded like Annabeth's), DUH!

I sat down next to Prim as Annabeth divided up proportions from the turkey and berries and roots. We weren't exactly concerned about the fire's smoke-it was kind of like a signal to the Careers or any other opponents out there to come and get us. Annabeth and I were highly trained with combat, and Prim could tree-hop (I dubbed the name when I saw her swinging from tree to tree like a miniature twelve-year-old Tarzan) and escape if she needed to. Rue, apparently, had taught her the trick, and she had caught on amazingly fast. The three of us sat in silence and ate our meal hungrily, but by the time I had finished, I figured I could've done with seconds. If there was a pepperoni pizza bush out here in the Hunger Games, I would be all set.

When we all finished our dinner, Prim began to tell us about her story. As soon as the gong sounded to signal the start of the Hunger Games, she and Rue had teamed up immediately, running off into the woods together. They were two twelve-year-old girls with special talents, not much different. Once, when the Careers had been chasing them Rue had taught Prim how to hide in the trees, and she was a fast learner. They managed to evade the Careers by slowing tree-hopping and throwing a rock into the opposite direction the two her heading. The Careers heard the noise and went after it, leaving the two girls safe, for the moment, at least. When Prim had noticed the long cut on Rue's arm, she had bandaged it up nicely with the first aid kit she had salvaged from the Cornucopia before she fled. The two had analyzed the Career's food stash and tried to figure out a way to destroy it, so they would lose their major food source. The pile was right out in the open, guarded with only that skimpy boy from District 3, and that struck me as suspicious. The Careers weren't completely dumb, and they should've had at least the common sense to heavily guard their stash. This was suspicious, alright.

After they had failed to find a way to destroy the food source, Prim and Rue decided to distance themselves from the Careers and set up a small camp. Rue taught Prim a high, whistling tune that the mockingjays echoed before they split up to gather edible plants for a meal. Prim had been searching for another bush full of berries when she noticed that Rue's whistling signal hadn't reached her. The forest had gone silent. Prim whistles back urgently, but the only reply she got was Rue's scream. She had gotten trapped in Marvel's net, and the Career boy was coming in any minute. The rest, we already knew.

The three of us were silent for a minute, mourning Rue. Annabeth scooted over to my side and laid her head on my shoulder, sighing, and I knew how she felt. This was all completely wrong. We needed to avenge Rue's death, and I got a semi-brilliant idea how.

"Guys? Tomorrow's game plan: we take out the Career's main food source for good," I said, finally figuring out how they had kept their loot so heavily guarded with so few people.

"How?" Prim asked, wide-eyed, "There must me some sort of trick or trap to it."

"There is. Remember those mines that we have on our plates when we rise into the arena? That District 3 boy, he must have somehow found out a way to activate them again, if that's possible," I explained, "His District deals with electronics if I remember correctly. So..."

"The whole pile is mined around it, alright," Annabeth finished for me, excited. "Percy, you're a genius! Even I wouldn't have figured that out!"

My jaw dropped and probably fell into the fire. "Say that again?" I asked, totally caught off guard.

My girlfriend rolled her eyes and punched me in the arm. "You heard me, Seaweed Brain. Once is enough-or have you gotten kelp stuck in your ears again? But it's a start," she added, and I could almost see the gears in her head turning, "The problem is, though-how are we going to destroy the loot without blowing up ourselves?"

I grinned. "We destroy the loot by somehow triggering the mines from a distance and blowing it up sky high, hoping that we don't follow in its lead, too."

-.-.-.-.-

I was back in my all time favorite comfort zone: that was, blowing stuff up, as usual. Annabeth, Prim and I had talked things over late into the night formed an excellent plan. Annabeth would go with Prim to distract the Careers and light a fire in one spot in the forest. When the Careers would come running after that fire, the two girls would light another one farther on a little, luring the Careers away from their campsite and buying me the precious time I needed to carry out my part of the plan. I was going to sneak up on the pile of loot and try to trigger the mines from a distance, possibly throwing a rock or some kind if heavy object. Simple.

The only problem? I might blow myself up in the process, too, which would surely be lots of fun.

Morning came and the cold lessened, thankfully, and now it was time to set our plan in action. Annabeth and Prim quickly built the three fires in their places, and traveled with me back to the Career's campsite. The two girls stopped at the first fire, and I told them to give me some time to get to the base before they lit it. Prim had wanted to station herself at the second fire to save time, but I had firmly told her to stick with Annabeth-I didn't want any more Rue accidents. Besides, we would be exchanging mockingjay whistles as signals so that the three of us could keep track of one another. If everything went right, of us would be meeting each other back at our original campsite.

Annabeth nodded and gave me a peck on the cheek for good luck, while I got a sisterly hug from Prim. They told me to be careful and not to do anything reckless or stupid or dangerous (for good reason, too-all three of those traits were trademarks of Percy Jackson the Great), and I went on my way. I shivered in the morning cold since I was only wearing one jacket, but then I remembered receiving a nice pair of wool, fingerless gloves from a sponsor earlier yesterday. I hadn't wanted to show the gift to Annabeth or Prim because I didn't want to make them feel bad by showing off the thick, warm gloves. I pulled them on over my frozen fingers and instantly felt a lot better. Somehow, the gloves generated even more heat than even I expected, and when I took them off to take a good look at them, I found that they had heating pads lining the inside of the gloves. Maybe fangirls did come in handy, I thought as I pulled the gloves back on.

I crept through the forest silently as I neared the Career's campsite. I scaled a tree and saw that their pile was off to the side, seemingly guarded only by the skinny District 3 boy who had a smug look on his face. There were two large tents off to the side, where the Careers probably had the luxury to sleep in while the rest of us froze in the cold. I hid behind a clump of bushes and wait for my friend's signal, keeping a close eye on the Careers, who were sitting in a circle talking and sharpening their weapons. My partner from Four, Fresca, was out by the lake spearing some fish for a morning meal, and it made my stomach growl. I had only a few crackers and a small bag of dried fruit to get me through the day, but maybe I could somehow manage to steal something from the pile before I blew it up.

Then, I heard it: our four-note mockingjay signal, the birds in the forest repeating the tune eagerly as I whistled the same signal back. Our plan was ready to go-Annabeth, Prim, and I were all set.

I could tell that the two girls had lit the first fire when smoke began rising in the distance. I watched Glimmer as she stopped sharpening one of her few knives left that Annabeth hadn't taken, pointing to the trail of smoke. She said something to the other Careers gathered around in the circle, and Cato called Fresca over as they all shouldered their weapons. Then, the four Careers-Cato, Fresca, Marvel, and Glimmer set off into the woods to find their next victim, leaving the boy from District Three alone. Cato ordered the boy to leave his post and guard the tents instead, since the pile of food and loot was already heavily mined. The boy obeyed, strolling over to the gap between the two tents and sitting out in front. Thankfully, he wasn't facing my direction, but I still would have to be as discreet as possible.

I hurriedly shimmied down the tree and sprinted towards the opposite side of the pile, being blocked from view just for good measure. I kept my distance paced around the mountain of loot, wondering how I could detonate the mines. I contemplated throwing a rock, but I wasn't sure if I would set off a chain reaction or not, and I didn't exactly have all day.

My eyes scanned the loot thoughtfully-lots of crates stacked high, a few spare packs here and there, a semi-ripped mesh bag full of apples slumped over the top of a barrel... jackpot.

My thoughts began to race faster and faster at a hundred miles and hour. If I could somehow pull this off... with what, though? From a fifty-foot distance, I doubted that I could throw my knife that far or accurately enough. I had to open the rip in the bag so that the apples could fall to the ground and set off the mines, but I didn't have anything to work with. Frustrated, I stamped at the ground, blowing the hair out of my face. In the forest, I could see that Annabeth and Prim had lit the second fire, and I knew that I didn't have much time. The Career would anticipate the trick sooner or later.

I was hopeless. I had gotten this far, but I didn't have the proper weapon to carry out my part of the plan. I had a sword and a couple of knives, but I needed a ranged weapon, one that I could shoot. No, what I needed was a bow and arrow, which-curse my luck-happened to be the weapon that I was the worst at handling...

It was almost comical how fast the parachute came, floating down right into my arms. I watched, slack jawed as I stared at the simple wooden bow and the single arrow I was now holding in my hands. I was so startled that I nearly dropped it, but I quickly recovered from my initial shock and straightened up. This had to be an extremely expensive gift from many sponsors combined-the only problem I had with it was that it had just one single arrow.

Perseus Jackson cannot shoot a bull's eye using only one arrow. I wasn't an Apollo kid, and I never would be. Seriously? I needed at least two full quivers just to hit the target in general back at camp-never mind hitting the dead center of the ring. It wasn't that my accuracy was off or anything; it was just that I didn't feel comfortable using a bow and arrow...it didn't feel natural. I didn't have any better options, though, and time was slowly ticking away from me.

Taking a deep breath, I rubbed my fingers together to keep them warm and strung the bow nervously, trying to keep my hands steady. I pulled the bowstring back so that my thumb was touching the brink of my nose and nocked the arrow tightly, concentrating hard. Then, I aimed the tip of the arrow straight at the tiny rip in the sack of apples, lining it up in my perspective so that I actually thought that I had a chance of hitting the target. Come on, Seaweed Brain, I thought to myself, You can do this.

I didn't even give myself time to think, to voice any doubts I had of myself, or to try praying silently at Apollo/Artemis to help my arrow fly straight (no gods, remember?). In a split second, I released my fingers from the string, letting the arrow fly, hoping for the best.

I held my breath as the arrow somehow managed to find its mark, skewering the mesh bag of apples and opening the rip in the sack barely wide enough for a few apples to roll through. I gasped. How on earth did I-

And then the apples fell to the ground, detonated the mines, and the world exploded into a million tiny pieces.

I was blown backwards and flew through the air as the mine sent a chain reaction through the other ones, triggering them, too. I roughly hit the packed dirt, hard, but my backpack had taken the brunt of the impact. I had landed on my left hand, though, and I cringed as I heard the bone of my forearm crack and winced in pain, biting my lip from crying out. Different explosions were set off randomly, and the loud detonating noises were still heard. When things finally quieted down, I saw that the blast had sent me sprawling about a good thirty feet away from the wreckage, and I finally raised my throbbing head to take a look at my work.

I had turned the Career's glorious pile of loot into nothing but rubble. Holy Apollo, it had been a success.

Suddenly, I heard a boy's shouts and running footsteps toward the now blackened pile of rubbage. I quickly, shakily got up on my feet and scrambled into a nearby shrub, my head pounding painfully. I was afraid that I had suffered a concussion, but that was a problem to deal with later.

The District Three boy cautiously approached the wreckage, worried about some stray mine that hasn't detonated yet, I guessed. He was calling frantically to the other Careers, but they most likely were too far away to hear him. The boy didn't search for the intruder, though, probably assuming that whoever set off the mines had been killed-after all, the cannon blast signaling my death could have easily been lost in the loud explosion of mines.

I grinned and stood up, slowly creeping away before the Careers came running back. All in a day's work.

That's when I noticed something strange: the mockingjays have stopped singing. The forest was completely silent, still.

And that's how I knew that Annabeth and Prim were in great danger.

Or were they already dead?